


Through The Glass

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-11-22
Updated: 2001-11-22
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:44:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11128104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Sleep deprivation is a wonderful thing.





	Through The Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Through The Glass

## Through The Glass

by Caffre

Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/caffre_19/South.html

Disclaimer: Well.if I have too. They aren't mine. They're someone else's. Happy now?

Author's Notes: Special thanks over to the guys over at the DSSB list *waves* for being such a gosh darn wonderful list and to Ashlan who pointed out that it was meant to be Sally instead of Sandra. And to Lea for no dS reason what so ever :).

Story Notes: Just to be safe I've given this a NC-17 rating. There are no spoilers that I can see and maybe just a bit of a plot at the start. Don't worry too much though. It doesn't last long. 

* * *

He jumped off the last platform of the fire escape, feet hitting the ground hard, forcing him to lose his balance and fall flat on his face. The hand his gun was in jarred badly against the ground, the shock of it reverberating all the way up into his shoulder. He forced himself back to his feet, hardly losing his stride. He didn't want to lose this one. He couldn't let that happen... 

He ran, the only sounds he could hear were those of the pounding of his heart against his rib cage, accompanied by that of his feet against the hard pavement as he chased after the perp. 

It wasn't so much that he could -see- Fraser jumping from roof top to roof top like some kinda wholesome Canadian version of the Caped Crusader without the cape; it was just...he just -knew- it; like...like...like his tired overworked lungs knew how to pull in the oxygen that still somehow managed to burn it's way down. 

He saw the guy take a left, heading down some ally way between a porn shop and a porn shop and he forced himself on. The stakeout had been one of Frasers' and his hunches, one that eventually Welsh had finally agreed to let them sit out; and now here he was; his legs where killing him from the several miles he was sure he had ran, but he wanted this son of a bitch -soo- bad. This guy needed some serious prison time and Ray was more than happy enough to pack him his bags for an extended stay. Ray had been the one to not only find the mess that had once been Sandra Stucker; Ray had also been the one to fall in it too. 

He skidded up to the corner himself, slowing down, and thinking that maybe his luck would change and this guy would be stuck in a dead end. Preferably dead but then again, caught would be good too. 

Well, he was almost lucky. He slowed as he prepared to round the corner only to have some hunking great slab of something really -really- hard come out of the murk and right into his face. The impact jerked his head back as his legs gave out from under him, forcing him down to the ground, giving his lungs something better to bitch about, knocking the wind out of him. 

"--Fuckin' cops!--" 

Automatically Ray raised his arms to protect his head, trying to block another blow like that last one to the face. Some part of his brain was telling him that if his nose wasn't broken he'd be a lucky son of a bitch, but right now, he was more worried about staying alive than anything else to pay it much mind. He'd been the one to find the body remember. 

At some point he realised that his hands where good, but the gun he had was better; all this in the nanoseconds it took for the plank or whatever the hell it was to came swinging down in for a real close view. Hey look at that! A knot in the wood. So it was a plank. 

Still, it never connected; Fraser was suddenly -there-, out of nowhere, right where he was supposed to be, doing what he did best, saving Ray's butt. He pulled the plank out of it's swing and brought it back like a baseball bat and hit the guy right in the face, and there it was...homerun! 

The perp fell hard against the wall, sliding slowly down as gravity took over as his senses gave it up. 

Shifting slightly, Ray pulled his cuffs out from underneath his own body, ignoring the slight pain of moving and threw them at Fraser, who deftly caught them and proceeded to handcuff the man. 

It was only after this was done that he turned to examine Ray. 

"Are you alright Ray?" 

Ray brought a hand up to his face, two fingers finally coming in contact with his nose to gently give it a prod or two. He pulled it back, noticing the red, sticky fluid that came away with it. 

"Oh yeah Fraser. Fine and dandy." He continued to look up at his partner, waiting for the realisation to kick in that he could be doing with a little help. He saw the Mounties eyes widen a little. Yep, there we go, one partner grounded awaiting assistance from Air Mountie. 

"I'm most terribly sorry Ray." He stretched out his hand, taking the same one that was covered in Ray's own blood. With a surprisingly gently tug, he pulled Ray to his feet. 

"Here, let me have a look at that." 

Taking Ray by the shoulders, Fraser turned him so that he had a better angle of light, getting real close to his partners face. Ray watched as his eyes roamed over what must have been the various wounds littered here and there all over his face. 

Only after what must have been only moments later, did those ally dark eyes finally alight on Ray's own. 

Silence. Ray was sure even his heart had stopped beating just right then. 

And then the all to familiar sound of Fraser clearing his throat broke the mood. "It, ah, all appears to be just superficial Ray. I don't believe your nose is broken as such, the edge of the plank just catching you as he...well, hit you." 

"So, I'm goin' to live then huh?" 

Fraser smiled, his assurance back in place as he turned from Ray to the man lying on the ground. Somewhere, off in the distance came the wailing of several sirens. 

"A black eye maybe, but you'll survive. Shouldn't you read him his rights?" 

Ray looked down at their collar; he looked like nothing more than just your average guy. In a normal world he'd probably have been at home with his wife and two point four kids enjoying the game or something. Hell, he was even wearing a tie. In this world though, he was also a murderer and a rapist and Ray had no sympathy for him whatsoever. He gave him a kick to the gut. "Hey, dirtball, wake up already!" 

"Ray..." 

Ray turned his best, albeit bloody, innocent look at his partner. "Hey, just trying to wake him up there Frase." He looked back down at guy. "Come on already." 

A soft groan from the perp and Ray smiled at Fraser. "It's an old trick my grandma taught me. Like the chicken soup thing for flu only more direct." He turned back to the nicely bloody mess Fraser had made of the guys face' saying as he grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, hauling him roughly to his feet, although not out of any kind of malice, more out of sheer exhaustion. "You listening to me? Hey! Listen up already! You have the right to remain silent..." 

* * *

He was sitting down; which was good. Fairly good, but not great. Great right now would be his own bed, in his own apartment and lying instead of sitting. -Actually-, he thought to himself, that wouldn't be great; -it'd be perfect-. 

He was sitting, which he'd already established was a good thing, but he was kinda holding his head up with his hand as he leaned with his elbow on his desk. 

He'd had to wait until a Doctor had seen the perp; one Ronald Phelps, a garage mechanic from down near Cicero. 

Once Ray had thrown him down in interview room one, all he'd had to do was look at him hard for the nut to crack. How he'd picked Sandra up off the street right outside her work, taken her back to his boss's garage, gave her a candle lit meal for two amid the engines and the grease, raped her and finally beating her to death with a monkey wrench before taking her body and dumping it down by the garages next to Ray's apartment building. Lucky old him. 

Told them it all while he was crying too. Like Ray was supposed to feel sorry for him, just because Ronald knew life was a bitch so he had to take it out on a woman who hadn't known him from dick. 

He even told them the name of the next woman he was going to -take out- as he put it. A Sally Malloy he'd seen working in Macys. Called her a nice, clean wholesome girl, not like Sandra, who he'd met at one of the porn shops near where they'd caught him. 

"Sick bastard." Ray muttered to himself, really wishing he and his headache where home, preferably in a dark room somewhere, where they could enjoy his day off tomorrow together. It was only after the interview had finished that Ray had gone, reluctantly, down to see Mort, who looked him over and told him there wasn't any bones broken and had given him a couple of pain killers. Which only seemed to be making things worse rather than better, as he could feel just how tired he was now a lot more than he had. Probably something to do with the rush of the chase, he thought to himself. 

Footsteps he knew from old came walking over to his desk and he didn't even need to look up to know it was Fraser. Hadn't he gone already? 

He forced himself to look up, gaining a little perverse satisfaction from seeing Fraser throw him a sympathy bone. He noticed that Fraser was out of his uniform and in civvies. Must've gone home after the first interview, took an extra long short nap and come back. 

"God Ray but you look terrible." 

"Hey, what more do you want from me, its like..." He looked at his watch. "Jesus is that the time?" He placed one arm gently on top of the other on the desk before gingerly setting his head down on them, using them like a pillow. "I'm going home." 

Other than the sounds of a slowly gaining speed squad room, Ray heard nothing out of Fraser. 

"You wouldn't ah, maybe..."He asked, muffling the words slightly as he didn't raise his head, speaking into the wool of his jumper instead. 

"Take you home Ray?" 

"Yeah, that'd be it." 

A hand was on his back, the press of wool against his skin almost as good as the flesh of the hand that was almost touching him through it, and for a second, Ray was back in that ally way, looking up into eyes whose colour was hid by the darkness, only this time, he was moving closer; closer than he'd ever thought possible. Wanting...wanting...wanting... 

He suddenly straightened himself up, which hurt like hell but it hadn't exactly been a voluntary action on his behalf, looking up at Fraser, blushing -I'm fucking blushing at my age- as though the Mountie could read his thoughts and then maybe cast him down into hell like he deserved. God but he must be a lot more tired than he thought to be having thoughts like that about his friend. His -partner- of all people. Someone he lo..., someone he trusted with his life for Gods' sake 

He felt another rush of dizziness, and, looking at his watch a little more closely, finally took note of the time. Jesus, but he'd been on his feet now for nearly 24 hours. 

He turned to look at Fraser, perhaps more intently than he normally would have done, but he needed something to anchor his gaze. 

"I think I really need to lie down." 

Fraser tutted, which caused Ray to smirk a little as he tried to hide his laughter. God, but Fraser could sound like a mother hen sometimes. 

* * *

Ray had complained slightly that even for Fraser, he was going too slowly. 

Fraser ignored him. Which wasn't all that hard to do as five minutes into the journey back to Ray's apartment, the Chicago detective was fast asleep thanks to the pain killers Mort had given him. 

The reason Fraser was driving so slowly was due to his own exhaustion. You see, he'd been on duty when Ray had called telling him that Lieutenant Welsh had given them the go ahead for their stakeout. Unfortunately he'd still had to finish his sentry duty, as Inspector Thatcher was feeling concerned that standards where slipping, especially as Turnbull was back in Ottawa on vacation. 

That meant he'd been standing outside for 4 hours, as well as doing all his and the other usual duties in and out of the Consulate that would normally have been shared between the two subordinates. Which meant that before he'd started that long day with Ray which had resulted in Phelps capture he was already quite tired. He was just glad he hadn't reached that stage where he would loose some of his grip on reality. 

And even when he'd finally got back to the Consulate, he'd had to take Diefenbaker for a walk. Then of course, his own curiosity about the case had him back over to the 27th to see how it had gone. 

A yawn forced it's way past his lips as he pulled up outside Ray's apartment building. He could have gone round to the garage but this was a perfectly legal place to park and he knew Ray was still a bit 'freaked' by parking round there since he'd found the body. 

He turned to a slightly snoring Ray. "Up and at 'em Ray!" 

He continued snoring. 

Sighing in frustration, Fraser gave him a gentle, yet firm shake. Which resulted in Ray's snoring getting just that little bit louder. 

Fraser sat there for a second biting his lip. He could sit here and try to get the man awake, which he suspected was going to be a very hard task; or he could simply leave him here and walk home. He looked at Ray. No, he couldn't do that. He'd only wake up in the morning with some kind of muscle discomfort. 

Getting out of the car, he made a decision. Ray was obviously very tired indeed, and seeing as Fraser had once or twice before spent the night very comfortably on his sofa, he decided that he'd drag Ray up there and spend the night. 

Opening the passenger door, he pulled Ray out, his hands under his arms. That done, it took a further 5 minutes trying to lock up the car and keep Ray upright. 

A sound came from Ray, and Fraser looked hopefully into his face. "Are you awake Ray? 

A very clear sounding 'No," answered him, and Fraser spent the next few minutes checking Ray for signs of the exact opposite. He even resorted to taking his pulse and shouting at him. But this only served to waken one of Ray's neighbours so Fraser stopped that. 

He carried him up the stairs, thanking God with each step that it was one step less and that both he and Ray at least had the day off tomorrow. 

Finally reaching Ray's door, he realised that he didn't have a key, before finally realising that Ray would undoubtedly have one on him somewhere. 

Turning his friend around, Fraser began a search of all his pockets of his jacket before going to the ones on his trousers. 

He slid a hand into the front one palm against the inside material and felt a warm flush spread through his body. God, but for some reason he felt like he was accosting his friend. He slid his hand out more slowly, a soft moan from Ray suddenly grabbing his attention. 

He looked up closely. There was a definite quirk to the man's lips, but he was definitely still asleep. 

"Oh dear." He felt on the outside of all the pockets now, wishing he'd thought of that sooner, trying not to analyse too closely why he hadn't and discovered the keys in Ray's left hand front pocket. Realising he'd have to go in again, Fraser felt his tongue swipe over his lips. Nervous Benton? 

His own mind was accusing him of something, and if his father had been here he would of course have had something to say. But when it was your own mind pointing the proverbial finger there wasn't much you could really do about it. 

His grip on Ray had slackened and he was sliding slowly down the wall and to the floor. Still, once he'd stopped his downward progress, he realised that the pocket he had to go into was a little less easily accessible. 

Fed up now, Fraser pushed his hand on in, rubbing up against his friends body as he did so as he tried to reach those keys. 

Another moan escaped Ray, and Fraser felt his pulse quicken as he looked up into his face. Ray's mouth was open slightly and Fraser was near sure he'd never seen lips that somehow just begged to be kissed like that before. 

It was almost a minute or two before he realised that his hand was getting nice and warm in there and he pulled it out a lot quicker than it had went in and he set about getting the door opened. 

Once in, he immediately decided that to undress Ray wouldn't be a very wise decision just right now. So, taking off his friend's shoes, coat and the woollen jumper he'd had on, he pulled a blanket over him and left him to it. 

Out in the living room, Fraser stripped down to his long johns and grabbed the blanket he'd taken from Rays room and settled down on the sofa. 

But, true to form, despite the exhaustion grabbing his attention by lying down, guilt stopped him from falling asleep. 

Just because your uncomfortable seeing your friend that way, doesn't mean he should suffer, does it? He thought to himself. He knew Ray would be more comfortable with at least his trousers off, but the thought had caused Fraser some degree of panic again. Sure, it was nothing he hadn't seen before, but of late, it wasn't so much a case of that, as in just how much he would -like- to see it. And to Fraser, that just felt a little bit wrong while his friend was obviously comatose. 

Still, he knew he wouldn't sleep, no matter how tired he was, until he'd sorted Ray out a bit better, and, with a sigh got up and stumbled to the bedroom. 

There he was, exactly as he'd left him and really, was it so much to ask of himself to make him a little more comfortable? After all, Ray had had a hard day too. 

He rubbed a hand against his face, and stepped closer into the room. Thanking whatever deity was watching over him tonight that his exhaustion right now was enough so he didn't care; Fraser unbuttoned the top of Ray's jeans, pulled down the zip and tugged them down. He then sat on the bed, pulled off Rays socks and with that done, promptly fell back, fast asleep, feet still on the floor, one argyle sock in his hand. 

* * *

Ray woke up slowly, rubbing his face against his pillow like some kind of contented cat. God, but he was comfortable. There are times when you wake up and you know everything's right with the world; you know it on some instinctual level. So there's nothing to worry about, nothing that needs doing except closing your eyes again and maybe grabbing another 20 minutes or so in bed before you have to get up. 

He stretched a little, his foot coming in contact with the weight of another foot between him and the blanket. That caused him to open his eyes again. 

"That was so not my foot," he whispered. 

Turning slowly he saw Fraser lying just behind him. There wasn't much light coming in from the street, but it was definitely the Mountie. He couldn't help the little thrill of pleasure he got at seeing him lying there, all mussed up and...damn but he was in those long johns of his. Still, in a certain way it was still sexy. 

Somehow Fraser was in his bed. And I know we didn't go -there- last night, he thought to himself, becoming more and more amused at the whole situation. 

He didn't have any of the blankets though, which Ray thought was slightly unfair as Ray seemed to have formed some kind of cocoon with them. Pulling them out from underneath himself, he threw them around the Mountie and decided to make the best of it. 

He snuggled in close, thinking that maybe he'd finally slipped over the edge, only this time just not really caring; he had something pretty good to hold on to. 

Letting out a huge sigh of contentment, Ray closed his eyes and fell asleep, his last thoughts something about what a boost to the aromatherapy industry Fraser would make. 

* * *

Fraser opened his eyes, aware of the horror of the situation somehow with out even realising it. 

It was dark, but not -dark- dark, more a suggestion that the day had come and gone and he'd missed it. Still, while that left him a little disorientated, it was nothing to the position he found himself in. 

He was tight against Ray, his legs tight up against the back of his partners, his chest curved along the length of his back. He tried not to think about his penis just then. He'd hate to have it, well, react on him just this moment. 

He was thinking of simply making a break for it. After all, Ray was still asleep according to his breathing and he could easily slip out unnoticed. Except for the part where Ray was holding onto the hand that he'd somehow draped over Ray's chest in what appeared to be a very non-subtle way to get that little bit closer. 

How had he let this happen? Last thing he remembered was something about Ray's feet, then nothing. Had he really been -that- tired? 

Of course, by now he was fully awake, bordering somewhere between panic and lunacy as he tried to think of several scenarios' that could easily explain his presence in Ray's bed if he couldn't make his get away. 

His breathing slightly more heavy than before, he tried to gently pull his hand away without waking up his friend. 

He gave a very gentle tug, only to find that Ray's grip had increased. 

"Ray?" He whispered quietly, "Are you awake?" 

"Yeah...Fraser?" 

Oh god, this was it. Suddenly his mind was a blank. 

"Yes Ray?" Somehow the words came out normal. He was sure he'd at the very least squeak or something. 

Ray didn't turn round, he didn't nod, he didn't move a muscle except to give the hand in his a soft, gentle squeeze. 

"I know you're pretty freaked out right now, but..." He took a deep breath. "I...well, I sorta like your hand were it is. I kinda like having you this close." Unknown to Fraser, Ray had squeezed his eyes closed tight, almost like a child who was really concentrating for the wish he'd just made to come true. 

He finally turned his face round to look at Fraser. "You just say the word, and I let go. I'll get up, make us some breakfast and we get on with our lives, just tell ourselves that we where both dog tired and fell asleep on the same bed. End of story." 

Fraser was still feeling some of that panic from earlier, but from somewhere inside a voice was screaming at him to not give this up. For just once in his life take this...this -love- that was being offered so freely, and keep it for him self for a change. 

"I...I don't want you to let go Ray. I want to see how this story plays out." He smiled at him, the fear suddenly gone at the prospects that were suddenly placed before him. "I think we both deserve a happy ending, don't you?" 

Ray leaned up slightly, meeting lips tentatively. Clumsily, almost awkward at first, they kissed, lips brushing against lips. Then Ray's grip on his hand tightened, his teeth gently biting down on Fraser's bottom lip, and things suddenly heated up. 

Taking the hand that was already in his, Ray pressed them both down slightly against his own stomach, slowly leading the way down past his boxer's, letting Fraser know his destination well before he got there in case he wanted to back out. 

Fraser found his hand suddenly alone down underneath those shorts, feeling the warm dick he found there harden as he touched it, as he curled his fingers around it and gently squeezed. 

Ray moaned into the still continuing kiss, losing track of it. The sensation of his hand causing that send shivers down Fraser's spine and into his own groin. 

He turned Ray over until he was flat on his back and straddled him, looking down into what he would later describe to Ray as sex filled eyes. 

"Are you sure Ray? About this? About...about us?" 

Ray reached up to his face, running his hand down his cheek. "Oh yeah. Wanted this all my life Fraser. Want you..." 

Fraser gave another slow, deliberate stroke of Ray's cock, seeing him close his eyes and bite down on his own lip. "That wouldn't have anything to do with my hand being where it is, would it Ray?" 

Ray opened his eyes again, grinning up at him, if in a slightly befuddled way. "Some yeah, but not all of it. That's just a nice bonus to the package deal that's Benton Fraser." 

Fraser smiled, quickening his pace, as Ray watched him expertly undo the buttons of his long johns with one hand, only letting go briefly to shrug his arms out. Then his hand was back where he wanted it. 

Ray was close and hardly thinking about anything except how hot this was, having Fraser bringing him off, touching him there when he noticed that Fraser was getting nice and hard there against his stomach. 

He reached down into Fraser's long johns and found his dick, leaking pre-cum very nicely thank you very much. 

He gasped as Fraser's grip on his cock lost a little of it's hold as he started on Fraser's. 

"I'm...god I'm close Fraser." 

Fraser's reply was breathless too. "Good" He gasped slightly, suddenly desperate to see Ray come because of -him-, because Ray had granted him this amazing gift and he'd taken it greedily after having only seen it through the glass window for so long. 

Ray tightened his grip, just as he liked it when it was only him and urged Fraser on. "I want...come with me Fraser...Ben. God, I want you Ben. Come with me..." 

Ray could feel it coming, knew Fraser was just as close and he forced his hand to keep going. 

He grunted just before he came, some part of his mind telling him that he had called Ben's name out real loud, just as he had called Ray's name. 

Fraser collapsed on top of him, both their hands still where they'd left them, Ray's t-shirt covered with cum, while his hand down Fraser's long johns was just as covered. Gently he pulled his hand out, making sure Fraser watched as he tasted the bittersweet fluid on his hand. 

His other hand came up and ran through his hair while their breathing slowed down. 

Finally, Fraser rolled off Ray and to his side, while Ray sat up briefly and pulled his t-shirt off over the top of his head, giving Fraser a perfect view of his chest. 

Fraser leaned up on his arm so he could look over to Ray. Would he still want...this...to continue? 

Ray rolled over so he was on his side, looking right at Fraser. 

"You ok?" 

Ray smiled at him before leaning in for a kiss that promised him that he was more than ok. Fraser smiled back. "Well, good. That's...good." 

"Good?" Asked Ray. 

Fraser kissed him back, hard, enjoying the slick feel of Ray's tongue exploring his mouth. 

"Oh. That was...that was good Fraser. That was better than good." 

Ray turned his back to him and Fraser shifted his position until he was spooned up behind him again. He reached a hand over, feeling the firm stomach that greeted his him. 

"Tired Ray?" 

Ray chuckled a little. "Well, you know...A little. You?" 

"I could sleep. If I wanted to." 

"You want to?" 

"No. You?" 

Fraser ran his hand over Ray's stomach, dipping slightly into that area he wanted to explore again. Only this time with his tongue, not his hand. 

"Nah." Ray turned round again, looking at Fraser not sure if to believe that this was real and happening and happening to him and not somebody else. "I love you you know. You do know that, right?" 

Fraser kissed him again, this time slow and sweet. "I know. Just the same as you know how much I love you back." 

"Yeah, kinda figured you where an' all or nothin' kinda guy. Which suits me fine by the way." 

"Suits me fine too Ray." 

-The End- 

* * *

End Through The Glass by Caffre:

Author and story notes above.


End file.
